


Beach Day

by mvernet



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: End Of First Season, Explicit Language, First Kiss, M/M, Pre-Slash, Storms, floods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4663314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starsky & Hutch spend a day at the beach.</p><p>Takes place in the late summer at the end of season one, just before season two begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beach Day

There's a moon in the sky somewhere I know  
Waiting for all the love to burn below  
If you fall and it happens all to soon  
Blame it all on the surfer moon

'neath the hill 'hind the cloud one dreamy night  
Rising up throwing down its golden light  
If your heart hears this melancholy tune  
Then you'll know it's the surfer moon

Brings the tide in  
Takes it all away  
Helps us ride in  
Brings us waves each day

Other moons have brought light and love before  
Promising to remain for evermore  
But they all disappeared with each new tune  
They make way for the surfer moon.

The Beach Boys- Surfer Moon

Starsky opened the trunk of his Torino. 

Hutch's LTD was at Merle's again, having decided to blow her radiator on the hottest day of the year. Starsky didn't like to take his best girl to the beach. The sun, wind and sand dulled the finish. But he had agreed as long as Hutch did the packing. Starsky looked into his trunk, then stood back, astounded.

"Hutch? Did you pack your whole canal house in there? Why'd ya bring so much junk?"

"It's not junk! It's what we need to have a good day at the beach."

"All ya need to have a good day at the beach is a towel and a dollar."

Starsky slung his Snoopy towel over his shoulder to emphasize the point. He was dressed in skin tight and threadbare jean cut-offs, a "Mork From Ork" t-shirt and red flip-flops. 

"Those shorts are so tight where do you keep the dollar?"

Hutch continued to pull things out of the trunk making a pile on the hot cement of the parking lot. He had brought his guitar, but decided he wasn't in the mood to play, so he left it in the trunk. He was wearing his ratty running shoes, a pair of gold running shorts and an open white cotton long sleeve shirt.

"You're just jealous. I still fit in these jeans and I've had 'em since I was a senior in high school. What the hell is that?"

Hutch pulled what looked like a yellow mini-surf board out of the Torino's trunk.

"It's a body board, Starsk! I got one for you too."

Hutch pulled out a matching blue one. With a sunny smile he handed it to Starsky.

"What do ya do with it?"

"Ride the waves, Buddy."

"Hutch? How much ya pay for these surf boards 'cause I think ya got took."

"Naaah."

Hutch grabbed the board and demonstrated how to use it.

"See, Starsk? You pull it by this rope out to where the waves break. Then you wait for a nice fat one, hold it against your upper body and just ride the wave back to shore. Body surfing. Simple, and fun. You'll love it."

Starsky eyed his board with curiosity.

"Okay, Surfer Boy, I'll try it. But I still think ya got took. Why didn't ya just get us some boards? Ya know the kind adults use?"

Hutch buried his head in the trunk to pull out one last tote bag full of fruit.

"I don't know how to surf, Starsky."

Starsky chuckled.

"Sea Scouts didn't get into that, huh?"

"The Great Lakes don't have humongous waves, and if you paddled around on a board you'd probably freeze to death. We scouts learned about boating safety."

Starsky laughed some more.

"I can teach ya, Hutch." 

"You surf?"

"Sure, every kid in California learns to surf. I just don't like it. When I get wiped out, it takes me weeks to get all the sand out of my hair. Besides the surfer dudes were dumb and mean. I liked to spend my time under the hood of some fine automotive machine tunin' it up for a race."

Hutch raised an eyebrow as he shut the trunk.

"You always amaze me, Partner. "

"I gotta admit, Hutch. You'd look good with a surf board under your feet, riding the curls. Man, the ladies would be all over ya!"

Hutch snorted and grabbed an umbrella. He blushed a bit at the sincerity of the compliment.

"Come on, Buddy. Let's hit the sand!"

.oOOo.

Starsky could go no further. He plopped down on a piece of driftwood and dropped his burdens. He let go of the handle of the cooler he and Hutch were carrying. Hutch overbalanced and fell in the hot sand.

"Jeez, Starsk! You could have warned me you were going to stop."

Hutch sat on the sand and looked up at Starsky.

"This is a good spot, Hutch. Finest I've ever seen. It'll do. I'm not gonna spend all day luggin' junk and searching for nirvana."

Hutch stood and shook out the beach blanket. The sea breeze blew loose sand into Starsky's mouth. He sputtered.

"Downwind, Hutch! Downwind! Don't you know anything about sand management?"

"Wha'?"

"Sand management. You can be such a beach greenhorn, sometimes. See ya wear flip- flops, not sneakers so ya don't drag sand everywhere. Ya test the breeze and shake things downwind so ya don't get a mouthful of sand. Ya don't open the cooler all the way, just sorta dip your hand in and search for what ya want to keep the sand outta ya sandwiches. Then when you're ready to go ya use the water faucet by the parking lot to wash all the sand off your stuff. "

Hutch looked at Starsky, not knowing what to say. He could tell he was sincere in his instruction. Hutch decided it was too nice a day not to humor his partner.

"Sand management. Thanks, I'll keep it in mind, partner."

Hutch busied himself setting up the umbrella at just the right angle and spreading out the blanket neatly. He took off his sneakers and poured out the sand. Starsky gave him an "I told ya so" nod, and Hutch chuckled. He placed his sneakers on two corners of the blanket to stop the wind from curling it. 

Starsky helped by exploring everything Hutch brought. The Frisbee, the transistor radio, and the extra towels met with his approval. He spied two paperback books in the tote under the radio. He picked one up to see the title.

"Ohohoh! A Nero Wolfe mystery. Man, Hutch! He's my favorite, and I haven't read this one! Thanks, Buddy."

"You're welcome. It's a good one. But you have to promise me you won't read the last chapter first. That drives me crazy."

"Huuuutch! I don't like waitin' to know whodunnit. You are such a spoil sport. Maybe I'll read the other one, just to spite ya!"

Starsky reached into the bag and rummaged around for the other paperback. Mindful of possible sand management issues.

"'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austin? Hutch this is a chick book!"

Hutch raised himself to his full height and glared at his partner. Starsky watched with a faint smile on his face. Picking an argument with Hutch was always fun. But at the beach he had the extra pleasure of seeing his golden friend at his best. Hair glowing in the sun. Blue eyes bright and reflecting the color of the sky. If he could get the Hutchinson finger going with accompanying raised eyebrows, his beach day would be off to a perfect start.

"That is not a 'chick book', Gordo! It is a literary classic. I try to read a few classics every summer to improve myself!"

"Well, I can certainly see the need for improvement on your part..."

Hutch raised his finger and eyebrows. Starsky stifled a victory chuckle. Starsky continued.

"But this is so a chick book. I can prove it. What's it about, smartie pants."

"It's a social commentary of 19th century mores lightly veiled in a comedy of manners."

"Yeah, yeah, Professor. Now tell me the plot so us mere mortals can understand."

Hutch sighed.

"It's about the relationship between Elizabeth Bennett an intelligent gentleman's daughter and an arrogant aristocrat, Mr. Darcy."

"Relationship? Do they end up falling in love?"

"Well, yes."

"Chick, chickety, chick, book. Bet the only action is a swoony kiss at the end. 'Ohhhhhh, Mr.Darcy! I'll love ya foreva and eva'"

Starsky gave a triumphant grin and approached Hutch with outstretched arms, pursed lips, making cartoon smacky kiss noises.

Hutch backed away in horror and tripped backwards over the cooler. He lay sprawled on the sand, feet in the air. The cooler fell open.

Starsky's demeanor immediately changed to one of concern.

"Hutch! Ya gonna get sand in our lunch!"

Starsky ran to Hutch pushed his sandy bare feet to the side and righted the cooler carefully brushing off errant sand. He peeked inside.

Hutch raised himself by his elbows, blinking at his partner. Several things came to mind that he'd like to do to him, all painful.

"Oh! Man! You got a hero! Three a them! You are the best, pal. Did ya get me a meatball?"

Hutch's heart melted at the childlike look in his eyes. It was beach day and he loved this goofy clown. He wouldn't take away that joy for the world.

"Yeah, Buddy. I got you a meatball, and a sausage and peppers. I got you chips and Pop too. And for dessert I made..."

Starsky was grinning like a fool. Hutch was smiling sunshine.

"You baked? Tell me you baked..."

"I baked Grandpa Hutchinson's Monster Brownies..."

"The one's with the chocolate chips, walnuts, mini marshmallows and frosting?"

"Yup!"

"Hutch! I love ya!"

Starsky pulled Hutch to his feet and gave him a hug, turned him downwind, then helped him brush off sand.

.oOOo.

Starsky and Hutch lay side by side on the umbrella shaded beach blanket. Using extra towels as pillows, they lounged together. Hutch's right elbow was just touching Starsky's left. Starsky had one knee raised and was gently rocking his leg against Hutch's side. They were both engrossed in their good reads. Starsky finished a chapter ending in a gruesome murder and sighed contentedly. 

It seemed like a good place to stop. He put his book down and watched his Partner read for a moment. He took off his t- shirt. He wiggled and dropped his head on Hutch's shoulder. He batted his eyes and whispered in a high maidenly voice.

"Oh! Sir Kenneth! How I wish you would ravage me tonight! I love you so! You and your blond bangs and baby blue eyes! Oh! Sir Kenneth! I can see eternity in your eyes..."

"Reading, Starsky."

"Touch me, take me, I am yours and yours alone..."

"Starsk..."

"Who cares that my PaPa will skewer you on his sword! Take me! Take me!"

Starsky wiggled the book out of Hutch's hands and put his head in his lap. He looked up at those baby blues that were sparkling with held in laughter.

"I'll take you. I'll take you and return you to loony toon land. You ready for some body surfing, Clown?"

Starsky bounced up. 

"Yeah! Hit the waves, then lunch. Sounds good, Buddy."

Starsky watched Hutch closely. Hutch smiled, stood up, grabbed the boards and handed one to Starsky.

"Let's go!"

"Hold up a sec, Babe."

"What?"

"Take your shirt off, Hutch. Leave it here."

"Starsk...I..."

"Babe, it's almost September and my golden boy is still a whiter shade of pale. Come on take it off, I'll put some lotion on ya."

"I...I...don't..."

Starsky reached in a tote for the suntan lotion. He went to his friend, removed his long sleeved shirt and tossed it on the blanket. He gently took Hutch's arm in his hand and turned it so that the crook of the elbow was bright in the sun.

"Babe. It's been 11 months, almost a year. They're gone. The track marks are gone. And even if they were still there, all it would say to me is how proud I am to have such a brave, strong man for a partner. And how grateful I am that I got you back."

Hutch closed his eyes. Starsky rubbed Hutch's arms and chest with lotion. Then went on to his back. He finished up by applying a small amount of lotion to Hutch's cheeks and nose. 

Hutch didn't say a thing till Starsky was done.

"Babe? You Okay?"

Hutch opened his eyes.

"Starsk. I...I... Thanks."

Starsky smiled and Hutch smiled back.

"Last one in the water has to vacuum the sand outta the Torino!"

Starsky took off running with his board flailing behind him. Hutch followed right behind.

.oOOo.

Hutch caught up with Starsky and pushed him into the water. They called it a tie.

Starsky & Hutch stood a moment gazing at the ocean. The surf was rough. The waves were gray with churned up sand and spotted black with rafts of seaweed. They crashed with a terrific force and were drawn back into the ocean with great speed. The wind carried a mist that smelled lightly of rain. Off in the horizon storm clouds threatened, but would not arrive till the night. This day the sun shone bright on the partners. They faced the far off storm and waded into the warm water side by side.

.oOOo.

Starsky had to laugh. Hutch's board had gotten away from him yet again, leaving him sputtering, swimming in place and trying to get the board back under him. Starsky on the other hand rode the board gracefully, looking like a merman on holiday. He even stood on it at one point when an extra big wave hit. He balanced his body perfectly, arms arched like a dancer, one foot behind the other, toes grabbing and steering the little board. He rode it to shore and jumped off as he pulled the board into his arms and walked onto the beach without missing a step. A group of kids making a sand castle clapped and cheered with awe.

Starsky took a bow with a saucy grin and turned to gloat at Hutch. He saw Hutch's board bobbing in the surf alone. He knew Hutch was an excellent swimmer, but he was such a klutz. Starsky held his breath.

Then he saw the blond head smack into the board, pushing it up and away. Hutch rubbed his head. He looked like a big blond drowned rat. Starsky exhaled and shook his head. 

"He's gonna give me a heart attack. Next summer I'm definitely teaching Blondie to surf." Starsky muttered.

Then he yelled. "Hutch! Over here! You done playin' around? I'm hungry! Come in, Surfer Boy!"

"Be right there!"

Hutch grabbed the board and tried riding it to shore one last time. He looked over his shoulder and waited for the next wave. He positioned himself on the board and rode the crest. He was nearly to shore when he got over confident and waved at Starsky.

"Lookit me!"

The board slipped and Hutch tumbled like a seashell and landed at Starsky's feet.

"Wow, Hutch! Do you think ya can walk with all that sand in your shorts?"

Hutch tried to look indignant, but dissolved into giggles. Starsky plopped down beside him. He put an arm around Hutch and joined him with deep hearty laughter of his own.

.oOOo.

Starsky reached for his third Brownie while Hutch nibbled on a plum. 

"Three, Starsk? I'll have to roll you back to the car."

"Your fault for bakin' for me. I can't resist homemade baked goods."

Starsky had moved the umbrella, arranged a few towels and the cooler to form a wind/sand break while they ate. The wind had kicked up a bit and clouds occasionally blocked out the sunshine making odd moving shadows on the sand. Starsky & Hutch were on their stomachs enjoying their leisurely picnic and chatting.

"Did ya eva notice, Hutch, that summers are always real easy on us? I mean this last fall and winter, hell, even the spring was real rough, real, real rough."

"I have noticed that, Starsk. I mean it must just be the weather or something. But I have noticed that all our big cases start in the fall. Almost like crime takes a vacation for 3 months."

"Yeah! And the year before last. Nothin' but tedium. I was bored to tears most days."

"I know. Them we start to work on the beat we got now and...whammo... one dangerous crazy case after another."

"It's like we're jinxed, Hutch. I mean, you were kidnapped, I got shot, I got poisoned..."

Hutch reached out a hand and took Starsky's. Starsky looked at Hutch.

"Don't. Don't say that, Babe. I...I almost lost you, twice. You're blessed, not jinxed. You are one lucky son of a bitch and I thank God..."

"Hey, Hutch, Babe. It's okay. I'm sorry I brought it up..."

"I...I...just think of it all the time. Like when you were dying... If only it were summer and we were having a beach day. Starsk?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

"I'm having a great time. I... let's just think on that, okay?"

Starsky couldn't help himself. He reached over and gave Hutch's cheek a kiss.

"I love ya, ya big blond softie."

"I love you, too, Starsk."

They both gazed into each other's eyes for a moment.

"Nap?" said Starsky.

"Nap." said Hutch.

Hutch stayed as he was and rested his head on his arms. Starsky rolled onto his back and put a rolled up towel under his head. He placed a hand on Hutch's arm. They both let the sounds of the beach lull them to sleep.

.oOOo.

An hour or so later. The direction of the wind had changed and the temperature had dropped. A storm was rolling in.

Hutch woke and poked Starsky.

"Starsk? We better go, Buddy. Storm's a brewin'."

Starsky looked at the clouds and agreed.

It seemed to take forever to gather everything together, shake off the sand, dump the ice and load up the Torino. The clouds kept threatening rain and the waves grew huge and wild. The tide was coming in.

Hutch wanted a beer and they decided to go to a seafood shack in Venice where no shirt and no shoes were no problem. Starsky was glad to see that Hutch had tied his shirt loosely around his neck and his arms were bare. They really were not hungry, but they ordered a dozen clams on the half shell to share. The seating was simply picnic tables under a sea grass roof. They watched the sunset and the moon rise.

A tall thin black man wearing an Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts named Theodore was the proprietor. He reminded both of them of Huggy and they joked that he might be a beach cousin.

Theodore brought Hutch his third beer. Starsky had switched to Pepsi after one beer and ordered a lobster roll to go with it. The combination of fresh ocean air and lots of exercise made Hutch's beers a little more potent than usual.

Theodore stopped a moment to look at the bright moon peeping through the dark clouds.

"That's a Surfer Moon, gents. High tides, floods. Good time to go inland and have a visit. 'Specially a visit with a lady friend. Surfer Moon is mighty powerful love moon."

"That's good advice, Theodore, but me and my partner here are bushed. Just gonna go home and hit the sack, ya know?"

"Yeah. Hit the sack with my partner." said a slightly drunk Hutch.

Theodore raised an eyebrow. Starsky tried some damage control.

"We don't live together, Theodore. I'm takin' my inebriated friend here home to his house, then I'll go home to my house."

Hutch looked sad and touched Starsky's arm.

"Gonna rain, Stars. You better sleep over, tonight. I'd just worry you be out under the Surfer Moon."

"Hutch? How's about we decide this later in the car, Okay, Buddy?"

"'K, Stars. I had a really good time on our beach day today. I liked when you took my shirt off and rubbed me. I liked surfing with our bodies, even if I did get whipped."

Theodore's eyes opened wide.

"Not whipped Surfer Boy, wiped, as in wipe out. Hutch I gotta take ya home."

Starsky ate the last bite of his Lobster roll and washed it down with his Pepsi. Hutch drained his beer and smiled at Theodore.

"One for the road?"

"No, Hutch. You're done. We gotta go."

"K."

.oOOo.

The rain started as they left the seafood shack. Hutch pretty much sobered up on the way home. He felt really good and really sleepy. Starsky was tired too, but happy and content. They both had a good beach day.

When they pulled into Hutch's driveway, they were surprised to see how high the canal was. The wind was blowing wildly and the rain was steady and hard. Starsky had second thoughts about leaving his friend alone.

"Maybe ya should come home with me, Hutch. I mean this is some high tide. And a Surfer Moon. Your lights might go out, and ya got no car."

"It'll be fine, Stars. The canal always fills up at the full moon. I'm just going to bed. We had a great day and I'm beat. Come by tomorrow morning. I'll empty the car out then and help you clean it."

"Yeah? Okay, yeah. That would be terrific." 

Hutch leaned over and ruffled Starsky's hair.

"I'm glad you're my partner, Partner. That was the best beach day I ever had."

"Same here, Babe. See ya tomorrow. I'll bring breakfast."

Starsky smiled as he watched Hutch run through the pouring rain to his door.

.oOOo.

Hutch was so tired he fell asleep on top of his bedspread in just his shorts. He had the good intentions of a shower to wash the sand off and a cup of tea to warm himself up. But he closed his eyes for a moment. He could still feel himself bouncing in the waves to the rhythm of the sea. He made the mistake of letting his head hit the pillow.

Hutch was dreaming. Sir Kenneth of Pemberly Hall, a dashing aristocrat of old was having a row in a boat on Lake Superior. It was winter and very cold. Chunks of ice hit the oars. He couldn't move forward or backwards. A squall came out of nowhere and capsized the boat. Sir Kenneth was falling, falling deeper and deeper into the bitterly cold lake. Suddenly before him was a Merman, half-man, half-fish. His hair of soft brown curls drifted in the current. Sir Kenneth realized it was his friend, Starsky. He called his name, but his mouth was full of water. He choked, realizing he was drowning. He tried to scream Starsky's name.

Hutch awoke. His mouth was full of water. He sat up, choking, coughing, and confused. He was shivering and shaking. He had never felt so cold. When he finally stopped coughing. He looked around his room. His bed was covered with water. The whole room was submerged in dark moving water. He watched, dumbfounded as all his possessions capable of floating swam passed him, like ducks on the canal.

"Oh. Shit! The canal! It's overflowing!"

Hutch jumped out of his waterlogged bed into waist deep water. His legs turned to rubber and he fell to his knees. Scrambling and splashing to keep upright, he sought out his brass headboard and clung to it tightly. Hutch was shivering so much he could hardly see. The only light came from the bright moon partially hidden by fast moving clouds.

The sound of breaking glass and howling wind made him reach for the gun that wasn't there.

"Oh, Damn! I left it in Starsky's glove box with my ID. No more beer for you, Hutchinson. You only had three. What's wrong with you?"

He cautiously made his way into the kitchen. The kitchen window and several others were broken by the pressure of the water trying to get into the little house. Water poured in through the openings filling the house. The rain had nearly stopped. But the wind screamed to get in. Hutch thought it was screaming his name. He shook his head. He felt drowsy and clumsy. And so, so cold.

"My plants! Oh, my poor babies!"

Hutch lost all cohesive thought. He started to wade through the water, grabbing his plants and putting them on top of the fridge. He gave no thought to his own safety or the dire position he was in.

Hutch crooned to his plants as he held them in his trembling hands. When the fridge top was crowded with his babies, he started putting the larger ones on the kitchen counters.

The effort caught up with him and he fell, exhausted, into the pool that used to be his home. 

Hutch fought his way to the counter and pulled himself up onto it. He huddled next to his sink hugging his knees. He wanted to sleep. But he kept hearing voices in the wind. He had stopped shivering at last, and heard a familiar voice on the wind.

"Starsky? Oh, God! Starsky? What should I do? I...I can't think what to do. I'm so cold, Buddy. I'm so cold. I should do something. I... maybe go back to sleep and wait for you, Starsk?"

Hutch looked around. He wanted to go back to bed. But it was underwater. Starsky would know what to do when he got here, he thought.

"Sss...Starsky! Hurry!" he called.

.oOOo.

Starsky rubbed himself briskly with his towel after his shower. It had taken two shampoos and nearly all his hot water to get the sand out of his curls. The wind howled outside his windows. He shivered and decided to put on a t-shirt and sweat pants for bed. The night was unusually cold for late August.

Hutch's brownies were calling his name from the kitchen. A glass of milk in one hand and a plate with two brownies in the other, he made his way to the couch for a little late night TV with his snack. it didn't take long for him to devour the treats his partner made him, and thinking of his day with Hutch, his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep.

In Starsky's dream he stood by the shore of a huge lake, watching Hutch in a row boat. Hutch stood in the small boat and called to him.

"See? No waves in Lake Superior, Starsk!"

The row boat disappeared and Hutch was drowning.

Starsky wanted to rescue his friend, but his legs had turned into fins. He lay on the sand, helpless, trying to pull himself to the water. The lake moved further and further away.

"Huuuutch!"

Starsky bolted upright, Hutch's name still on his lips. He blinked and tried to even out his breathing.

A TV news reporter droned on about the storm still raging outside.

"... homes along the canals were evacuating just before sunset . Property damage is estimated to be in the millions. We urge you to stay away from beaches and low lying areas since flooding is occurring all along the coast. The combination of a severe thunderstorms, extremely high tides and a full moon has broken the known record for storm surges..."

Starsky ran for the kitchen phone and called Hutch. He didn't need the calm voice saying, "I'm sorry, but we are unable to complete your call..." to know Hutch was in trouble. He cut the voice off and hung up, trying to clear his head. He listened to the storm. He thought he heard Hutch calling to him on the wind.

"Shit!"

He scrambled to put on his sneakers and his jacket. He grabbed his keys and ran to the waiting Torino.

.oOOo.

Starsky made his way towards Venice Beach on the deserted roads. The rain was letting up but wind gusts could take off a roof or knock a man over. At the main parking lot of the beach, the police, fire and Coast Guard had set up a flood control center. There had been no casualties so far and a few rescues. Mostly of teenagers stuck in their cars or animal lovers who would not leave their pets.

Starsky looked around and spotted a tall, thin man with red hair. He was acquainted with Lieutenant Commander Robert Meadows. He was a year older than Starsky and they had gone to the same high school. He reached over to get his ID out of the glove box and noticed Hutch's ID and gun were still there.

"Damn. Hutch! Why do we get so lax in the Summer? I left you with no gun, no badge, no ID and no car. What the hell was I thinkin'? And you were a little drunk too. Oh, God, Babe! Please be alright. If anything happens to you, it's all on me. I'll never forgive myself for leavin' ya alone."

Starsky took his ID and locked the glove box. He got out of the car and walked towards the Lieutenant.

"Meadows!" called Starsky over the wind.

"Starsky! What the hell are you doing here?"

They quickly shook hands.

"It's my partner, Ken Hutchinson. I left him off at his house on the canal at about 23:00. I'm sure he's still there and I need to get to him."

"We evacuated the area, Starsky. The last helicopter run said all of the houses along the canals were flooded. Maybe your partner got out..."

"I checked everywhere, Bob. Hutch is a cop and my best friend. He would have contacted me or the station. He was real tired when I left him. He probably went right to sleep..."

Starsky didn't know Meadows very well, but he knew that look in his eyes. The look of concern for the victim's family.

"No, Bob! He's not dead. Maybe he's hurt or stuck somewhere. I'd know if he was dead. Dammit! I never should have left him!"

Meadows patted Starsky's shoulder.

"Look. Give me the address. I can't send a helicopter till the wind dies down. I can send a couple of men and a rescue boat out there. It will take about an hour to call them in from patrol and send them out to your partner's house."

"What if Hutch doesn't have an hour. I gotta go now!"

Starsky looked around and spotted some surf boards on top of a van.

"Bob? Ya got a wet suit I can borrow? I'm takin' a board out there."

"What? I can't let you do that! I'll have two dead cops on my hands...wait... didn't you win some kind of surfing contest when you were a freshman in high school? Oh, yeah. The Endless Summer Junior Cup. You beat out some hot shot senior beach boy. Man, you were hot shit, Starsky! Why'd you give it up?"

"Sand, Bob. Hot, sticky, sand. I hate sand. Now, ya gonna help me get ready?"

.oOOo.

Bob drove Starsky in his personal van to a spot near Hutch's neighborhood that was above the flood line. Starsky changed in to a wet-suit in the back. The sleek black suit had reflective red tape along the seams. It fit him like a glove. Starsky pulled the hood piece over his head and zipped the suit up to his neck. He felt snug and warm. He added a utility belt and hung a waterproof flashlight and some nylon rope from it. Starsky also attacked a walkie-talkie and a small pouch containing a thermal blanket for Hutch. Bob had warned Starsky that even if Hutch was unharmed, he was likely to be suffering from hypothermia. Bob had already encountered two cases of it today during rescue attempts. A severe drop in body temperature would cause the victim to act irrationally, even endanger themselves. If left untreated, the victim would go into shock and eventually die.

When Starsky was ready, he jumped out of the back of the van and looked around. Bob was standing on a large boulder, gazing out over the eerie sight.

Hutch's charming canal front neighborhood had been transformed into a choppy lake. The wind commanded the usually placid canals to produce waves that pulsed under the moonlit sky. Some houses were completely underwater. The roof lines of others stood out like stationary sailboats in an ocean of movement. Treetops gave the appearance of gray islands in a black sea. 

Starsky pulled a large, heavy surfboard down from the top of the van. He examined it, rubbing his hand over the waxy surface getting a feel for the texture and strength. Satisfied he gave it a pat. It was a good board. He joined Bob and was chilled at the sight of the destruction.

Bob turned to Starsky speaking like a concerned big brother. He shouted to be heard over the wind.

"No heroics, Dave. Just get to the house and stay put even if your partner isn't there. The walkie-talkie will be out of range, but as the rescue boat gets closer we should be able to contact you. Use the flashlight to signal us. If you find your partner..."

"When, Bob, not if. Hutch is in his house, I can feel it in my gut. I know what to do. But thanks...I gotta go."

Starsky tucked the surfboard under his arm and waded into the murky water. When the water reached his waist he settled the board next to him and slid onto it face down. He wiggled a bit to find his center and paddled with his arms pushing the board into the middle of the flood plain. He gracefully raised himself, tucking his knees under him and again finding the perfect center for his tightly curled body. He pulled his arms out of the water and sat up, still on his knees. He took in his surroundings.

The rain had stopped but the sand and spray thrown by the wind was blinding. Howling and cursing reached his ears as the angry storm surged around him. He could still hear one small soft voice that gave him hope. 

"Starsky! Sss...Starsk?"

"Hold on, Hutch. I'm coming!"

Starsky paddled out to the middle of the canal. He watched the waves caused by the relentless gusts of wind. The surfer moon was bright. It gave Starsky a clear view all around him, and cast moon shadows of light gray against the black night. Finally he found it. The rhythm of the waves and wind. He closed his eyes briefly, and internalized the beat into his own heart. He turned the board and took a perfectly balanced stance in one movement. A brief pressure with his toes and he was riding the tops of the waves. Heading directly towards Hutch.

The moon and wind were at his back. His body and the board moved as one on the turbulent water. His silhouette against the surfer moon gave him the appearance of a water spirit dancing in a moon glade.

It wasn't long before Hutch's cottage was in front of him. The devastation forced a shout from his lips.

"Huuuutch! Hutch! I'm here! I'm here!"

The wind was still too loud for Starsky to hear the soft cry from Hutch.

"Starsky! Please, help me!"

Starsky steered the surfboard towards Hutch's broken kitchen window. He flattened himself against the board and glided smoothly through the opening pulling his arms close to guard against broken glass and kicking his feet a bit so that the back fin of his board jumped the windowsill. The storm water had risen to the bottom of the window about a foot above Hutch's counter tops in the dark kitchen. Starsky saw the moonlight glancing off a fair head as he found Hutch curled into a corner of his counter leaning against the refrigerator. Starsky noticed his very still and very pale partner was sitting on a large overturned empty flowerpot, knees pulled tightly against his body. Hutch was surrounded by his plants, the water lapping at his feet.

"Hutch! Oh, God! Hutch!"

Starsky maneuvered the board and jumped onto the counter next to Hutch. The surfboard slowly drifted away towards Hutch's submerged bed, giving the surreal impression of it wanting to turn in for the night.

"Hutch?"

Starsky touched his partner's face and was shocked at how cold he felt. He patted Hutch's cheeks trying to get a response. Starsky used his hands to feel for a head injury, blood or broken bones. He sighed, satisfied Hutch wasn't wounded or in pain.

"Hutch? Open your eyes, Blondie. I'm here. Starsky's here."

The blue eyes fluttered and opened half way.

"Sss...Stars? Ccc...cold. Cold."

Hutch made a feeble attempt at a hug and almost toppled into his kitchen pond.

"I know. baby. I know. Starsky's gonna warm ya up... hold a sec."

Starsky glanced around looking for a dry surface to lay Hutch on. There wasn't one. He jumped into the frigid water and retrieved his board.

"Hold it, you. I ain't done wit ya yet."

Starsky wedged the board as best he could between the fridge and Hutch's cabinets. He jumped on the board and leaned into Hutch capturing him in a strong embrace. Starsky half pulled, half carried Hutch till he was on the board facing him.

Hutch seemed a little more aware as he returned Starsky's warm, life giving hug.

"Stars...knew you come... heard the wind..."

"I know, Baby. I heard you too. You hold onto me tight, okay? Don't let go."

"Don't let go my Stars... ever." Hutch mumbled into Starsky's neck.

Starsky took off his wet suit hood and put it over Hutch's head, pulling it gently into place. He held Hutch with one arm as he unzipped his wet suit and pulled Hutch close so they were chest to chest. Starsky shivered as Hutch's cold flesh pressed against his own.

"Hutch. You're gonna be alright. Just need to warm ya up a bit. Can ya put your arms around me inside the suit?"

Hutch tried to do as Starsky said. He wanted to do what ever Starsky said. But his arms lay limp at his side.

"Stars... Am I a corpse? Did I drown? Ccc...can't move."

Starsky felt yet another chill run up his spine. This one from concern for his friend and not the cold water.

"Blintz? Do I look like an angel to you? You're just numb from bein' cold, You're gonna be fine."

"Angel. Dark Angel. Warm."

Starsky pulled Hutch's arms into his suit. He took in a breath as the icy fingers pressed against his back. He pulled Hutch's legs more firmly onto the board as his own dangled in the water lightly touching the counter, keeping them stable.

"That's right, baby. You hold on tight. Gonna give ya all the heat I got."

"Stars...couldn't think. What to do... I waited for you... Knew you'd know... My Sssstars knows..."

Hutch continued to mumble into Starsky's neck. Starsky could feel Hutch's breath and even that was cool. Starsky fumbled for the silver emergency blanket attached to his belt. When he finally got it open with a few good curses, he wrapped it around Hutch's back and tucked it in as best he could. Starsky pulled Hutch even closer to trap his body heat in the blanket.

"There ya go, Baby. Ya look like a big blond baked potato. Gonna buy ya a real one and a steak to go with it when I get ya outta here."

Hutch began to shiver uncontrollably. He tried to grip Starsky tighter for support.

"SsssStars,,, can't...stop...ssshiver..."

"It's okay, I got ya. You've got hypothermia, Hutch. Ya understand? That's why ya can't think. Let me do the thinkin' for ya. Shivering is good. Means you're warming up. I got ya. You can't shiver your way outta my arms, Baby."

"Yyyyou thhhink ffffor me. Good that's gggood."

Hutch managed to rub Starsky's back up and down a few times. 

Starsky was moved by the trust implicit in the trembling touch and stuttered words. He felt a sudden surge of love overflowing his heart. Starsky began slowly rubbing Hutch's bare back under the blanket. It was still so very cold. Starsky stopped to pull the blanket tighter around Hutch's neck. He rubbed his warm cheek against Hutch's cold one. Starsky felt a fierce protectiveness for this man that he loved. Loved. 

"I'm so glad I found ya, Baby. I never shoulda left you here alone. You're a treasure, and I shoulda treated ya like one. I love ya."

Starsky didn't know what possessed him to say that he loved Hutch. He just knew he did and wasn't ashamed to say it.

Hutch's shivering had died down. His breath was slow and regular as he absorbed Starsky's heat. His heart was warmed along with his body by the love surrounding him. He slowly came back to himself and snuggled closer to his partner.

"I love you too, Starsk. Thanks for coming back for me."

Starsky smiled and went back to rubbing and warming Hutch's body.

"Starsk? I think the canal overflowed. I had a dream I was in a row boat in Lake Superior and started to drown. You were a merman and tried to save me. When I woke up I was underwater."

Starsky stilled as he listened. Remembering his own dream.

"Yeah, Hutch. That's right. The canal overflowed because of the storm and the surfer moon. Strange, I had almost the same dream. You startin' to feel betta?"

Hutch nodded into Starsky's neck. He lifted his head a little and looked over Starsky's shoulder. His eyes grew wide. He began to tremble again.

"Starsk! The...The water! The house is full of water! What the hell?"

"Hutch! Keep still, Baby. You're gonna capsize us. Take it easy. Take it easy. I still got ya. You're okay that's what's important."

"Starsk... we... are ...on a surfboard. And my house is flooded. What are we going to do?"

"I got ya covered as always, Hutch. The Coast Guard will be here any minute. They know where we are. They're sending a boat for us. We just gotta sit tight and keep you warm. Now settle down and wait with me. It won't be long. Trust me."

Starsky gently pushed Hutch's head back into the crook of his neck and stroked his cheek.

Hutch gave a sigh and settled in to wait. He closed his eyes suddenly overcome with weariness.

"I just... sleep a little... Starsk. 'K?"

"No, Hutch. Don't sleep. Not yet. Talk to me. Tell me about your plants."

"I woke up drowning. I was so cold I couldn't think what to do. Then I had to save my babies. They can't live in brackish water."

Starsky chuckled a little.

"That's my Hutch. Always thinking of others. I think they'll be alright. They can move in with me. You can come along too and take care of them for me."

Hutch smiled.

"Thanks, Starsk. I guess I was out of my head, huh? I'm an excellent swimmer. I probably could have swam to high ground and got myself to safety. But I couldn't think to do that."

"Maybe it's betta I came to you. The wind has died down now, but it was fierce before. You coulda drowned, Baby. What would I have done then, huh? What would I have done without you by my side?" 

Hutch lifted his head again and looked at Starsky. Starsky looked at Hutch. Then their lips touched. Slightly. Just a chaste kiss for a desperate time. Hutch felt Starsky's warm breath raise his temperature. Starsky willed the heat of his love into Hutch's cold mouth. They separated and said nothing more. Hutch returned to nuzzling Starsky's neck. And Starsky returned to warming Hutch's back.

A light flashed outside and Starsky's walkie- talkie squawked. Starsky reached for it and pressed the button for receiving. Lieutenant Bob Meadows' strong voice pierced the darkness. 

"You in there, Starsky? Did you find your partner?"

Starsky answered.

"Yeah, Bob. I found him. He's got hypothermia but I've got him warmed up. I'm gonna send him through the window on the surfboard. I don't want to risk him getting wet again."

"Okay. That works. Wait till my men get to you. We'll use it like a stretcher. Keep him covered."

"Always, Bob. Always."

.oOOo.

Hutch was ensconced in Starsky's bed. After spending several hours in the ER, his body temperature was only slightly below normal and he was pronounced out of danger and released to his partner's care.

The storm had passed and the surfer moon had set. His partner had dressed him in red long johns and sweats. Then piled on the blankets and poured hot tea into him. Hutch sipped the tea, sweetened with honey and counted his blessings. He had lost his home and most of his possessions. But he was alive and warm and his biggest blessing was puttering around in his "Mork From Ork" t-shirt, sweat pants and bare feet in the kitchen.

Hutch set the tea down. He felt bone-weary, but his mind was far too active for sleep. He closed his eyes for a moment. That was a bad idea. He felt like he was drowning again with the wind was pulling the heat from his body. He gasped when he felt a warm hand on his forehead.

"Sorry, Hutch. Didn't mean to scare ya. You're still too cold. Ya want some more tea? Maybe some soup?"

"Starsk, I just want to sleep, but..."

"Can't settle? Move over, Baby." 

Starsky got into bed and pulled Hutch close. Hutch craved his partner's heat. He felt he'd never be warm enough again. Starsky took Hutch's hands in his to warm them. He wiggled under the pile of toasty blankets and rubbed his feet against Hutch's. Hutch gave in to the wonderful feeling of being wrapped in love. Starsky looked down at his precious armful and smiled, kissing the top of his head.

"Hutch. I'm sorry about your cottage. You can stay here as long as ya want. I'll call Huggy and we'll find ya a nice place near the beach, but not on it. You're staying away from the water from now on. We'll go back to your place in a few days and try to salvage what we can..."

"Doesn't matter, Starsk. I got what's important to me right here."

Hutch squeezed Starsky's hand.

"I'm also sorry I left ya there all alone. That was real careless of me..."

"Hey! No guilt trips! We had a great day at the beach. We were real relaxed and happy. I want to remember that. By the way. Did you surf to my rescue? Things are a little fuzzy in my memory..."

Starsky sat up a little straighter in the bed, pulling Hutch along with him so that his head was against Starsky's chest. He began playing with Hutch's hair, willing warmth into the cool scalp.

"Yeah, Blondie. Starsky The Surfer to the rescue. It was kinda cool, actually. It all came back to me. I used to be pretty good. Won some contests."

Hutch chuckled and started to sing.

"Little surfer, little one.  
Makes my heart  
Come all undone  
Do you love me..."

"Shaddup, Hutch! Or I'll toss ya back in the canal!"

"Sorry, Babe. I'm really very impressed."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Maybe you could teach me how to surf before the summer is over?"

"Sure! But I'm gonna get me one of those Coast Guard wet-suits from Bob Meadows. It kept the damn sand offa me real good! Ya see, Blondie, the first thing ya gotta do is find the perfect board. It's like an extension of your body, ya know? Ya gotta pick just the right one. I knew this one dude made surfboards outta driftwood. So beautiful. But not really practical, ya know? Now, I like a wood board, don't get me wrong, but some of the new fiberglass ones got two fins. Talk about stability... Hutch?"

Hutch's eyes were closed, his breathing slow and a faint smile was on his face. The sight of his sleeping partner made Starsky feel like he found his perfect wave in an endless summer.

Starsky settled in to get some sleep himself, keeping Hutch very close. He loved Hutch. Hutch loved him. He began to wonder what that meant and what the fall season might bring, but his thoughts were interrupted by a soft sleepy voice.

"Stars?"

"Yeah, Baby?"

"Best beach day ever."


End file.
